I think the name is "death by a thousand cuts". Whatever it is, it's kind of frustrating.
The plan is simple: Connect from Muscat to Bahrain (via an overnight in Sharjah), arrive at 9 AM and see as much of the city as I can; meet my uncle Lorne in a hotel bar in the evening and pick up my cousins at the airport. There's something awesome about making plans with someone you know to meet on a certain day, place and time in a city you've never been.
After a night in Sharjah that doesn't really merit any discussion (certainly any positive discussion), I arrive at the airport and check in for my flight. The flight, which it seems is some sort of bizarre hybrid; an Air Arabia flight on a Free Bird airplane (it's a Turkish charter line) and a split crew. FYI, if you're ever deciding between Air Arabia and Free Bird, the former has more comfortable seats; the latter has better looking flight attendants (or at least ones that don't have kewpie-doll levels of makeup on).
Anyways, because the plane is waiting for a handful of passengers, we depart Sharjah an hour late (seriously; it's barely an hour-long flight). Customs goes okay, except for an egregriously queue jumping Lebanese gang (so egregrious the Egyptian behind me protests loudly).
So I'm in Bahrain, and the taxi drivers are a little aggressive; they're asking for pretty ridiculous rates (I was planning on cabbing it to the Crowne Plaza I was meeting my uncle, and storing my bag there for the day).
I decide to skip the cabs; the airport is in Muharraq, near the historic house of the last pre-oil sheik, Isa bin Ali, and the neighbourhoods of Muharraq are supposed to be historic, so let's walk there -- maybe 1.5 km. It's actually a nice walk, with stops to chat with bored security guards, buy ice cream and look at the wall murals throughout the area.
I tour the house, which is decent enough, with a nicely working windtower and some relatively ornate carved areas, and decide to get a taxi; I head over to the souq area, which is the best place I can think of to find one. The roads are really quiet, and there's no cabs. The one I see won't stop for me.
Well, by now, I'm at the causeway from Muharraq to the main island and Manama proper. And, even though it's pretty hot, the prospective of sea breezes and nice views trumps standing around, waiting for a cab to wander by. So I head across the causeway; my destination is the museum on the other side. The breezes and views are nice enough, but I'm getting tired, what with carrying my entire pack around. So I go over to the museum; it's supposed to be really nice, and I hope I can check my bag, wander the museum and then go to the hotel. I turn the corner to the museum, and there's a big-ass sign reading "CLOSED" out front.
Jeez. So at this point, the hotel (Crowne Plaza, or, as my uncle subliminally slipped, "Crown Royal") isn't that far away, so I decide to head there and ditch my main pack, at least. Only the hotel is on the NW corner of the main corniche and the causeway road, and I'm on the SE corner. And there's a roundabout in the way. And the hotel is actually a block or two away. And that's the back entrance, so I have to wander the whole hotel to find the concierge.
I drop my bags, and deflect the question about when my flight leaves (I'd also converted to the degree possible from backpacker to business traveller before I went in). I stop in the lobby cafe for the most expensive Diet Coke I've ever had, and then decide -- for reasons not entirely understandable, but probably heat and dehydration related -- to not get a cab to go to the Bab al Bahrain; a landmark in the middle of the city.
So I walk, through the diplomatic area and past the new commercial district rising rapidly -- the Bahrain World Trade Center is a really neat two-tower building forming a point at the top, but with turbines between the buildings (look at the picture; it's hard to describe). It's still really quiet, and someone mentions to me that it's National Day.
Which explains the closed museum, quiet streets and very little happening. Damnit. (This is the third country in a row I've arrived in during a holiday -- UAE National Day and Oman Armed Forces Day.)
The Bab is, frankly, underwhelming, but I'm tired, so I stop off at an Indian restaurant and gorge myself. I get a couple of extra post cards (can't mail my Omani ones, since the post office is closed), and finally take a cab back to the hotel to meet my uncle -- after walking from the airport all the way to the Bab, which I think is maybe 8 km or so, all in the middle of the day (30 degrees or so), and a heavy pack.
I watch the Liverpool-Arsenal (?) match, until my uncle shows up to meet me in the pub -- which begins the next phase of my trip, I think.
Manama Hotels
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